Scruffy Love

"We're getting a dog!" My Daddy called me one afternoon, as excited as a little boy. I asked him if he was sure, and where was he planning on getting it. Their house, new to them, had a literal postage stamp of a yard. Mama had never allowed an animal in the house, so I wondered how that was going to work out. I have to give her a lot of credit, though. She's the best housekeeper I've ever known. You can eat off the floors, seriously. And even though animals were never her thing, because she loved us she always allowed us to have a menagerie of animals. There were protests about the mess, the hair, the aggravation, but she also was usually the one to feed them. Then when I was grown, I had four kids so they could feed my animals. This worked out beautifully for me.

My parents assured me they would find a responsible breeder and not go finding some rescue dog with problems. They have 21 grandchildren, for heavens' sake. They looked all over, but kept complaining about how expensive the puppies were. One day, they arrived at my house with this Thing. I asked where they got him; they said, "The Pound." His face looked like a brillo pad, with wire sticking out everywhere. His teeth protruded in a crazy underbite. He looked like a Shitzu mix, with terrier springs in his legs and a sprinkling of dachshund that somebody let in the back door. Daddy named him Rhubarb, after the local DJ that he loved to listen to. They took him to the veterinarian, who discovered the dog had Parvovirus, an often fatal illness. I thought they'd put the dog down, but no, they brought him home and nursed him back to health. 

We couldn't believe that my parents had a house dog. When we'd visit, Rhubarb would run all over us and the furniture, finally landing on my Daddy's lap. They thought he was the cutest thing they'd ever seen. He was taken for walks, car rides and family outings. But then the big bomb came out: he was also sleeping in their bed with them every night. These were my parents. The people who were in their late 70s and had never allowed any creature inside the house. They were smitten. It was adorable.

When Daddy died suddenly in September of 2018, our entire family, including the dog, just about crawled down in the grave with him. We still can't believe it's true, and we only cope by remembering where he is and then telling funny stories about all the wonderful things he did. I was at Mama's house a couple of weeks ago, sanitized and properly distanced for a short visit, when several other family members happened to show up too. I thought Rhubarb's head was going to explode, he was so thrilled to see that many humans at one time. He did his runabout, then landed in Mama's lap. I got a little misty, thinking about how much joy that little dog brought to Daddy...but now how thankful I am that he's there for her. We wondered how it would work, after Daddy was gone. Rhube stayed with my brother's family for some days, but finally Mama was ready to have him back. When you go to visit her, her face lights up as he jumps in her lap, and he curls right up next to her every night. He has been a godsend, one of those creatures that God makes and blesses with a touch of extra grace. It's the little things...